


What comes next

by badwolf_doctor



Series: Ain't No Fortunate Son [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: AU after AC3, Chases, Desmond adjusts to life back among the living, Desmond flips fate and Juno the bird, Desmond might be a little bitter, Escapes, Gen, Shaun's having a rough time, Team Bonding, and we introduce some more characters, except some stuff from Syndicate shows up, ignoring most of the stuff from the comics, pre origins, probably a little bit of a cliffhanger ending, sea-planes, set post Syndicate, that Desmond and Shaun reunion I've been dying to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolf_doctor/pseuds/badwolf_doctor
Summary: Desmond Miles' lifeshouldhave ended in an abandoned Isu temple on Dec 21 2012, but it didn't. But coming back from near dead isn't easy and a lot has changed in the meantime and Desmond isn't the only one scrambling to keep up with all the changes. Between Juno wreaking havoc in the world and the Templars' ever increasing power, something has to change if the Assassins are to survive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5430830)

For centuries, a war had been going on in the shadows. It was a war waged not for money, land, or title but instead one fought for hearts and minds—a war for the freedom of all mankind. On one side: The Templars, once known as the Order of the Ancients, determined to bring about a lasting peace on earth by any means necessary, even at the cost of freewill. They were the mustache-twirling, maniacal laughing, rich creeps who’d sell out their own grans to further their goals. On the other side: The Assassins, once known as the Hidden Ones, tireless shadowy warriors dedicated to protecting the world from the Templars’ machinations; weeing out corruption and evil one megalomaniac at a time. Of course, the world wasn’t as black and white as all that. Both sides had their good and bad parts, just like anything else. But, the Assassins at least were willing to learn from their mistakes and do try to do better. The Templars seemed content to stay stagnant.

It wasn’t a glamorous life, but it was a worthwhile cause. Even if there was an awful lot of running and hiding in dusty and dirty locations. There was no fame to be had here either. The average person on the street didn’t know about the faceless organization bent on subverting their freedom nor did they know, or care what the Assassins had sacrificed to keep them safe. They were the silent sentinels between the ungrateful masses and full Templar domination. Shaun Hastings hadn’t been born into this life, the way some had. No, he had chosen it despite the above aforementioned. Or rather, it had chosen him and pulled him kicking and screaming into a world where he spent a large chunk of time actually kicking and screaming; a world where things like being shot at and living on the run were commonplace. Who exactly were they running from, you ask? Abstergo industries. The world at large knew Abstergo as the multi-billion dollar conglomerate that manufactured…well, everything really. From medicine, to phones, computer and game systems, to military tech, Abstergo had their hands in it all. And let’s be honest, that fact alone would have been enough to make them seem shady, but add in the fact that Abstergo was nothing more than a Templar front and it became the stuff Saturday morning cartoon villains’ dreams were made of. They were better funded than the Assassins, and better staffed after the purge of the 2000’s, in which many Assassins were hunted down and either captured or killed.  
The Templars weren’t the only threat out there—Juno, one of the Isu, an ancient and powerful being with a serious grudge against humanity was still unaccounted for since she’d been set free by Desmond. There hadn’t even been the slightest of rumblings from her in some time, which was nearly as troubling as Juno actively causing problems. At least where Juno was concerned, they had a plan…well, half a plan…or more like a general idea. They’d learned that the Pieces of Eden were once part of a whole. And they had figured that since First Civilization tech had been used to free Juno, First Civilization tech could also be used to trap her again. So, they’d turned their attention to rebuilding the Brotherhood and finding as many Pieces of Eden as they could. As for what they were supposed to do about Abstergo and the Templars? Well, they were still trying to figure that out.

 

* * *

  
In the past few years, Shaun’s role had become more proactive, going beyond coordinating teams and supplies and writing codex entries for the Animus. He’d loved that job and been damn good at it, but after what had happened at the Grand Temple with Desmond and Juno, he’d needed to take a more hands on approach; to keep his sanity and to allay some of his guilt at not being able to have done anything to help. He’d spent more time out in the field than ever lately and for the most part, he enjoyed it…except for that awful business where he’d almost lost his best friend. After that whole incident, William had moved Rebecca back to a support role and had given Shaun a new partner. He’d resisted the change at first because Rebecca was his partner, the whole reason he had even survived long enough to join the Brotherhood and she’d been with him through so much; how could he ever work long term with someone else? But, his new partner was hard to dislike—though on occasion, they did disagree on the best way to handle situations. Shaun was a big fan of the tried and true methods of ‘sneak, sneak, sneak, use some tech, and keep out of sight’. Hadassah on the other hand, was more into the ‘punch, punch, stab, let me break a guy’s neck with my thighs’ method of investigating. It seemed to him as if she got frustrated with all the sneaking around the job required and would decide to beat the crap out of a group of Templars twice her size when clearly, there were other options. But, it was entertaining to watch. And, she was more knowledgeable about the Pieces of Eden than most, and she seemed to enjoy it when he started off on another historical tangent—so, he could deal with the occasional difference of opinion so long as she had his back. Because in the end, that was the most important quality in a partnership.

* * *

  
Hadassah Kadiri, unlike Shaun had been, for all intents and purposes, born into this life. Her mother, a renowned historian had been recruited into the Brotherhood when Hadassah and her brother Ismail were very young. This was the only life they’d ever known. It was easy sometimes to forget why they fought when it seemed everything was stacked against them. They all struggled with that from time to time. Believing in something wasn’t about unwavering faith, but in being devoted to it in spite of doubts; in seeing the worthiness of a cause despite everything else. To honor those that fought before you, who died fighting for what they believed in. That was what life had taught her. And it was a lesson she had learned well. Her specialty was Pieces Of Eden, a field of study she had inherited from her mother. She had been fascinated by them from a young age—not because of the power they held over people but rather because they were so prevalent in history and legend. What purpose did they serve originally, before the first humans broke free from their Isu masters, and what would they create if they were all found and combined? Those were just some of the burning questions she needed answers to.  
She hadn’t exactly been thrilled when the Mentor had paired her up with Shaun Hastings. He had been hostile and resistant, and why would she want to put her life in the hands of someone who didn’t care about her? But the pair had bonded quickly over tea of all things. And now, she’d gladly trust him with her life; considering she had to do it one way or another, it was probably a good thing there was at least some degree of trust. Shaun was smart, even if he could be an arse about it and knowledgeable about a variety of different historical topics. And he was, to her surprise, a competent fighter if not an exceptionally skilled one. All in all, they made a good team—even if heir approaches to missions were vastly different.

She and Shaun had been sent to La Gomera in the Canary Islands to infiltrate an Abstergo warehouse where supposedly, many artifacts the Templars had secreted away over the years were kept. Of course, there was a rumor that even more were kept in a facility in mainland Spain, but they couldn’t say with any certainty whether or not that particular rumor was true; any Assassins who had ended up there hadn’t come back, at least not alive. Other rumors said there was at least one Piece of Eden within this warehouse, and that was what they had been sent to find. There wasn’t much information about what sort of Piece of Eden it was, which would likely make finding it difficult. But Hadassah was confident they would be successful in their mission. And, she’d take any opportunity afforded her to beat up some Abstergo goons. At this point, it was probably a character flaw. At least, that’s what her brother Ismail would say. (And likely Shaun too, since that was where most of their disagreements spawned). To her though, it was justified. Abstergo and their people had taken so much from them all. And sure, maybe a wise, healthier choice would be to let go of that anger or to try to work though it by talking to someone or some other activity that didn’t involve beating the shit out of peopl, but she’d address those issues at a later date—right now, this was her best option for an outlet.

* * *

  
They had been watching this warehouse for day snow—logging the comings and goings of guards and clocking any cameras or other security measures. Doing your own recon sucked, but it was a necessary evil. Shaun figured Hadassah would have preferred to just burst in sight-unseen but he was far too fond of living for such a thing. After all, this could very well be an Abstergo trap. If it was, then the smart thing to do would to be to not just walk into it. She might be content to leave things to chance, or fate or whatever higher power she believed in, but Shaun wasn’t comfortable with that in any way, shape or form. If experience was any judge, his luck wasn’t great (somewhere a little north of downright awful in fact). Therefore, he’d rather not rely on it at all.  
“The side door looks like the best bet—it doesn’t have a keypad on it, just a heavy-duty lock.” Shaun said.

They were perched on the roof of a nearby building; Hadassah was sitting cross-legged next to him, unusually quiet. “I’m not worried about getting in—I’m worried about finding the artifact.” she said. “That place is huge and we’re not 100% sure what we’re even looking for.”

She had a point. One artifact in a large warehouse full of artifacts would be like looking for a needle in a haystack…or more accurately looking for a specific needle in a pile of needles. Difficult, but not impossible. Time consuming? Yes. But they could do it…they had to.  
“I’ve got the box number for it—providing our intel is correct. So as long as there’s some sort of order in there, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find…hopefully.”

There was a small smirk on Hadassah’s face as she looked up at him, a single eyebrow quirked upwards. “When has Abstergo ever made anything easy for us?”

“Another valid point.” He conceded. Shaun was trying to stay positive about this whole mission, and about life in general. It was exceedingly difficult given the state of things. But he was trying. He would never admit it, but since the day the world hadn’t ended, he’d been rather morose. Alright, he’d been more than morose on and off. He felt awful about everything that had happened. He’d been a right arse to Desmond since the day they’d met and then the idiot had to go and save the whole world and nearly get killed in the process. And then there was the whole thing with the Shroud and he couldn’t quite shake the sinking feeling that they were doomed; that nothing they did made any real difference, they were fated to lose.  
He caught sight of Hadassah frowning at him—he must have ignored her reply, clearly she was irritated at being ignored. But Shaun couldn’t help but get a little lost in his own head, there was a lot going on in there. The world was a mess and everything they did always felt like too little, too late. Shaun felt like that kid in the fable with his finger stuck in the dam to keep it from flooding the town. Like all they were doing was buying humanity a few more hours of freedom before the onslaught of darkness overtook them all.

“Something you need to get off your chest, Hastings?” Hadassah was good at being able to sense when something was wrong; standing up, she walked closer to him. “We’ve got ten minutes until shift change and we have to focus on work. So, feel free to unburden yourself; I need to know you’re gonna be focused when we’re in there.”

Hadassah, as much as he hated to admit it, was right. Bottling this up any longer could make him lose focus on the job and that, in turn, could get one or both of them killed. Better to unburden himself now and face emotional injury than face actual injury inside the warehouse.

With a sigh, he adjusted his glasses. “Do you ever wonder if what we’re doing makes a difference in the world? Whether or not all of this is worth it?”

Hadassah tucked a loose strand of dark hair back into her hair; several moments of silence followed then a shrug and a sigh. “Sometimes. I mean, I think everyone does at one point or another—it’s hard not to wonder.” she shrugged again, the toe of her sneaker kicking against the rooftop. “You just have to decide if it’s worth it to you personally or not. In fact, a few years before we met, I thought about leaving the Brotherhood.”

Shaun’s eyes widened, mouth forming a small ‘o’. He shook his head to hide his surprise. “Well, obviously you didn’t. Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Actually,” Hadassah corrected. “I did leave. This is the only life Ismail and I have ever really known, and after Mom disappeared the fact that we never had a choice in it bothered me. What seemed like the last straw came later. I lost a friend. And I was angry—at the Mentor, at myself, at my friend and especially at the Templars. I just wanted to be done with the whole war. So I left.”  
Pacing back and forth, it seemed she couldn’t stand still. “I thought it would be better if I cut ties with everyone—especially Ismail, before I lost them too.”

“So, what made you come back?”

“Eventually, I realized that my friend died for something they believed in. They thought this was important, the same way my Mom did. If I gave up that fight, forgot the creed, then I’d essentially be saying that their death was meaningless. To me, that would have been worse than the loss itself.”

“So, you came back.” Shaun said with a small smile. It was nice to know that he wasn’t alone in his questioning.

“I had to.” Hadassah nodded. “You have to decide what you can live with and what you can’t. Humanity is flawed, no one can argue with that. They fight over the most ridiculous things, they lie and they hate and they kill sometimes indiscriminately. But they’re also capable of amazing things. They can also forgive, and grow and learn and become better than they were before. No one should have the right to take that from them, no matter how much more peaceful the world might be.”  
A quick glance down at her watch told her that yes, they still had a couple of minutes before shift change. “This fight is hard and sometimes it sucks and you lose people you love but you can’t lose your faith in humanity no matter how dark it gets.”

 

“You know, you’re better at giving pep talks then I would have imagined.” Shaun laughed.

Hadassah laughed as well, tossing her braid over he shoulder. “What can I say? I like to keep people guessing.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you.” he said, voice thick.

“That’s what partners are for, Hastings.” she replied.

 

Across the way, they watched a door open—shift change was happening.

“Alright, moment over.” Hadassah declared.

“Thank goodness.” Shaun replied. Neither of them were particularly good at the whole honest, open communication thing, or at the whole emotionally vulnerable thing. They were working on that first part. But for now, there was work to be done.

* * *

  
Carefully making their way from the rooftop down into a nearby alley, the pair waited for the right moment. Shaun went first, walking across the street and over to the side door of the warehouse. The lack of security here was setting off Shaun’s internal warning bells. If valuable historical artifacts (like a Piece of Eden) were here, then shouldn’t security be tighter? Unless of course, they were trying to stay under the radar? Or unless this was a trap. He really hoped that it wasn’t a trap.  
Hadassah went next, waiting just long enough to make it seem like the two of them weren’t together. Once they were both in the alleyway, Shaun knelt down to pick the lock while Hadassah stood watch.

“You got that?” she asked.

Shaun frowned as he worked. He was better with electronic locks, it was true, but he was getting better and faster and honestly, the only way he would continue to improve would be to practice. “Yes, I think I do.” Half a moment later, a click and the door swung open.

“Good job.” Hadassah patted him on the shoulder as she moved passed him and into the building. Better she go first in case this was all an elaborate trap. Shaun was a good fighter but she would definitely have the advantage if they were going to be ambushed; people tended to underestimate her.

Shaun followed a few steps behind her. To their surprise, the warehouse was well lit. Shaun had half expected it to look like a stereotypical dungeon with the way Abstergo hoarded things like some kind of grouchy corporate dragon. But this place was temperature controlled, like a museum. If he wasn’t so against the Templars as a whole, he might have been impressed by their set up. Their own artifact storage wasn’t quite so nice, but then again, they didn’t have Abstergo’s budget.

“Okay, the box we’re looking for is Q-23.” Shaun did his best to keep his voice low. They weren’t exactly sure what the layout of this place was, or how many employees were inside. They’d seen a handful at the shift change but there wasn’t anyone around at the moment, thankfully. And he’d like to get this job done as quickly as possible and with as little bloodshed as possible. After all, the average Abstergo employee wasn’t a Templar. They were people who genuinely wanted to help others and make the world better, or people who had been so glad to simply have a job that they didn’t look too closely at their employer. And in all honesty, there had been enough bloodshed on both sides. As much as Shaun wished things could be different, that was just the way things had to be; otherwise, Abstergo would wipe them all out.

“Q-23. Got it.” Hadassah noted.

The pair of them made their way back to the stacks where boxes of artifacts lined the shelves. Apparently, Abstergo had more artifacts then they’d been led to believe. The trick would be to find the Piece of Eden they were looking for in this mess. Shaun’s eyes roved over the shelves, seeking out any sort of numbering or filing system. And…there wasn’t one. Damn. Now they were going to have to search shelf by shelf. Great. Wonderful. Spectacular. Ugh!!

“Hey!” Hadassah’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I think I see the Ark of the Covenant over there.” she joked.

Shaun frowned. This was not the time for jokes. “If my face melts, let me know.” Looking out over the rows and rows of artifacts, he sighed. “As much as I hate to suggest this, there’s too much ground to cover and I think we should split up.”

Hadassah frowned and gave a small sigh of her own. “I think you’re right. But if I run into an ax-wielding psychopath, my horrible death is on you.”

Shaun laughed a little too loudly. “I think you can handle an ax-wielding madman. Now, let’s get to it.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.” she left with a mock salute and a soft click of her heels.

* * *

  
Shaun took the rows of shelves to the right, leaving Hadassah the shelves to the left. Moving as quickly as he could while still being able to read the box ID numbers, Shaun set out to find the Piece of Eden. He did have to wonder what exactly the end game was for this Piece of Eden hunt. The idea was to use them to stop Juno, but that only worked if they did actually make something. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted the word of a dead man.  
He wandered through the tall stacks, looking over the rows and rows of boxes once more. The Assassin in him knew that their sole purpose here was to find the Piece of Eden that was supposedly being kept here. It was literally likely life and death. But the historian in him was loath to leave behind all the other artifacts here. Who knew what sort of culturally significant things might be here? And Abstergo just had them all stored in boxes like they were old clothes or something. Keeping them from being seen and appreciated by the rest of the world. If he could, he’d smuggle them all out of here. Just to keep them from Abstergo’s clutches. While he and Rebecca had been undercover at Abstergo, they’d seen them use Desmond’s DNA to fuel their “video-game system”. Things were bad enough when they were kidnapping people and forcing them to relive their ancestors’ memories, but being able to let someone else do it from just their DNA was slightly frightening. And the rumors they had heard were even more frightening. Word was they’d found a way to pull residual DNA from objects. Such a thing would put the Assassins woefully behind. And they couldn’t afford for that to happen; the deck was stacked against them enough as it was already.

A sudden noise brought Shaun’s focus back to the mission at hand. As he rounded a corner, he found a single guard milling about. Ducking quickly back behind the shelf, Shaun tried to work out the best way to neutralize the guard. The man wasn’t entirely facing Shaun, but was still turned in his direction enough to leave the possibility of him raising an alarm before Shaun could take him out. But…if he was quick…maybe he could keep that from happening. Shaun carefully pulled the dart gun from his bag before taking aim at the guard; the dart hit its mark and the guard slumped to the floor before he could even register what had happened. Success! Now, he could get back to searching box numbers—this guard should remain unconscious at least until they were finished here. Hopefully. Although, it would be just his luck if the man woke up too soon.  
Moving to the next set of shelves, Shaun began scanning for box Q-23. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the organizational system (if you could even call it that). To his left, he could see boxes from ‘A-F’, then ones labeled ‘L’ and a few labeled ‘R’ and even a ‘Z’ but no ‘Q’s in sight. Who the hell set this place up? Shaun would certainly like to give whomever it was a piece of his mind.

* * *

  
Hadassah tackled her half of the assignment with more enthusiasm than was likely necessary; the way she handled everything in fact. Handling things in that manner had started out simply as a way to mask how angry she was about her mother’s disappearance and the state of the Brotherhood. Fake it till you make it was her motto. And for the most part, these days, she wasn’t faking it. She was beginning to enjoy her job again. She was still angry, make no mistake. But it was no longer all she was. And the company she kept now had a lot to do with it. They all had their own issues, make no mistake, but they had each others’ backs. Which was how the entire Brotherhood should operate because what was the point of calling something a Brotherhood if it didn’t act like one? That was the main problem, in her opinion, with the current state of the Brotherhood—they were too separated, too compartmentalized. If you knew a single person in another cell, you knew more than most. And yes, when the worst happened, that compartmentalization kept the others safe. But if the groups were less separated and more connected, they’d be more likely to keep the worst from happening in the first place. That was why the Brotherhood in Masyaf had thrived for as long as it did. The bureaus were stationed throughout the land but all of the Assassins were based in a single, defensible location. Their hideout was a fortress, and not a random warehouse. In Hadassah’s opinion, they needed to be more like that and less like they were now. But that was not what she should be focusing on right now.

The shelves around her were filled with so much pilfered history. History was meant to be preserved, on that she agreed with Abstergo and the Templars. But it belonged to its people, it wasn’t meant to be secreted away in private collections or secret warehouses. As she passed, she stuffed a few of the smaller boxes into her bag; she couldn’t leave them here to waste away in this warehouse. She’d take them back to HQ, let Bat take a look at them then work on sending them back to their respective homelands.  
Damn, Q-23 wasn’t on this shelf. Time to move on to the next one. Hadassah hadn’t taken more than a few steps before she caught sight of two guards making their rounds.  
Rushing forward, she slid across the polished floor, knocking the legs out from under one guard. Climbing quickly back up to her feet, she grabbed the second one, slamming his head once, twice, into the metal shelves. He hit the ground and didn’t get back up. In the meantime, the first guard had gotten his feet back under him. Luckily for her, he was reaching for his gun and not his radio—she’d never hear the end of it from Shaun if she got them caught…again.  
It seemed the guard was having a hard time getting his gun out of the holster and she used the distraction to step in close, fist connecting with his throat. The guard’s hands immediately went to his throat and Hadassah hit him once, twice, three times and then once more until he too crumpled onto the ground. Thank goodness that was over.

Shaun would likely have a few choice words for her about what just happened. ‘Not everyone who works for Abstergo is a Templar’, ‘Not every situation requires you to punch your way out of it’. That was just outright wrong. Every situation related to the Templars did in fact have to end with her punching her way out of it. It was just a fact of life. Besides, it felt good.  
Righting herself and returning to the real reason she was here, Hadassah’s eyes scanned the shelves around her. There, on a shelf just about eye level was a medium sized box labeled ‘Q-23’. Aha! Pushing up onto her tip toes, Hadassah carefully took the box off the shelf. Mission accomplished. Now, it was time to grab Shaun and get the hell out of here.

From somewhere in the distance, an alarm rang out. Shit. She was sooo never going to hear the end of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond adjusts to life back among the living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I _purposefully_ post the Desmond centered chapter on the 6th anniversary of his death? Maybe.

Desmond Miles had spent most of the time he’d been back in the world of the living building back up his strength. It hadn’t been easy, or fun. Of course, he _had_ spent almost three years in a coma. No one could come back immediately from that. It took hours and hours of hard work (and lots of screaming and crying but he wasn’t going to admit to that last part). He wasn’t back to where he’d been before, but he was working on getting there bit by bit and day by day.  
He **would** get there; it was only a matter of time and patience. And while, he wasn’t known for his patience, he was working on that as well. Sometimes being patient with himself was far harder than the rehab itself. Recently though, both the Doc and Rebecca had deemed him fit enough to get back into the Animus, which was helping both alleviate the boredom and relearning a few things. He was _finally_ getting to where he felt like he was able to be of some use. He’d been going stir-crazy, cooped up and unable to really contribute to anything.  
He hated feeling useless. He’d been useless to the Brotherhood for too long already, given all the years he’d spent pretending he knew nothing about them. He hadn’t wanted this fight for so long, content to stand on the sidelines. But Abstergo had forced him into it. It _was_ his fight now. And good luck trying to keep him from it. He had changed so much in the short span of time between when Abstergo kidnapped him and to well…the time he’d died. Boy was _that_ ever strange to think about. He’d been dead…or near enough, then he’d been visited by a few other dead people like something out of a Charles Dickens’ novel and then he’d come back. And here he was. Not quite as good as new, but good enough. And ready to get back into the fight. Fuck, his life was strange. That seemed to be the overarching theme of his life, but strangely enough, he loved it.

 

Whatever time Desmond had that wasn’t spent training, in the Animus, or getting checked over by the Doc was spent assisting Rebecca keep track of teams in the field. It was…a **lot** of work. And Desmond had a greater appreciation for both Rebecca and Shaun now. Because keeping track of a handful or more of teams, making sure they were well supplies and had an exit plan if necessary was honestly _exhausting_. He kind of understood why Shaun was always snippy with him when he used to interrupt him. Being responsible for others’ lives was enough to stress anyone out. Desmond had found that he was good at the job, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy it. For now, he was just happy to be helpful.  
If he had a choice, sure, he’d rather be out there kicking ass. But if he went out there and fucked something up because he wasn’t _ready_ to be out there, he’d never be able to live with himself. Shit like that was what got people killed and Desmond wasn’t going to be the one to make that mistake. Was he _happy_ about being stuck here? No, of course not. In fact, he wasn’t even sure where _here_ was. He’d been out in the courtyard area a few times, but there wasn’t any sort of landmark visible to give him any idea where he was. He hoped wherever it was that it was off Abstergo’s radar. Because no doubt if they found out he was still alive, they’d be after him again. He was definitely **NEVER** going back to being Abstergo’s prisoner. He’d rather die…again. Or he’d rather _they_ die…not that Desmond was bitter or anything. Except that yes, he _was_. He reserved the right to be bitter about what had happened to him. Because honestly, it **SUCKED**. He’d spent _years_ in hiding, been relatively happy with it even. And then Abstergo had found him. And the next four months were a whirlwind. Everything had changed so much so fast. He wasn’t the person he used to be. He _finally_ understood why this fight was so important. Without the Assassins standing between humanity and total domination by either Isu factions or Templars, things would unravel pretty quickly. After all, if not for the Assassins (and Desmond specifically) the world would have ended on December 21st 2012. But it didn’t because they’d stopped it (he’d sacrificed himself willingly but he was trying _very_ hard to **not** think about that because he didn’t want to open that particular can of worms).  
Honestly, the circumstances of his life and weath were strange enough without thinking about the equally strange circumstances of his rebirth. And he wasn’t sure he was _ready_ to face the truth of what happened to him. Could anything in Desmond’s life ever be considered _‘normal’_? Probably not. Because from the moment Juno marked him, he’d been fucked. And not only him. So many people had been manipulated across time; so many tiny events she’d had to orchestrate in order for her long con to turn out in her favor. Of course, he’d put a wrinkle in her plan by not dying. Because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to let her tell him what his destiny was. **He** was in charge of his own destiny, not her. And though for now she was eerily silent, she’d be back. And Desmond would be waiting. And he’d be ready for round 2. 

 

* * *

“Desmond?” A soft, accented voice drew him out of his thoughts. He turned to find Isabela Adalino standing in the doorway. Isabela was the team doctor. She had told Desmond once that she’d joined the Assassins after finding one of them bleeding out in an alleyway; she’d felt compelled to help and when she’d learned they only had basic first aid care because they couldn’t go to the hospital with Abstergo after them, she’d joined up. If his being alive and in one piece was any indication of her skill as a doctor, then she was a damn fine one. 

 

“Good morning, Doc.” he replied with a smile.

 

“Good morning indeed. It’s time for your check up.” 

 

That was one of the things the doctor and his father had been adamant about, checkups every two weeks to monitor his recovery process. He could complain about the constant mothering, but it was bearable…mostly.  
Dr. Adalino was one of the few members of this group that stayed on the base full time, and the one with whom he had the most contact. He liked her well enough; she’d been a good friend and her bedside manner was _infinitely_ better than the last doctor he’d dealt with. Then again, Vidic had been able to get away with an atrocious bedside manner because most of the people under his care either died or were in no condition to complain about him. Asshole. Desmond did **not** regret Vidic’s death in the slightest. Fuck that guy, the wold was better off without him. If only the rest of the Templars could be dealt with so easily. Desmond _did_ feel a bit guilty about the death of Daniel Cross, even if it hadn’t seemed like it at the time. It wasn’t Cross’ fault he’d killed the Mentor and begun the great purge; he was as much a victim of Vidic and the Templars as the rest of them. His death might have come at the hands of Desmond, but it was just another in a long list of crimes of Abstergo and the Templars. Desmond was going to do whatever he could to make sure that Cross was the last person he couldn’t save.

 

“Here we are.” Isabela said when they reached the infirmary. The set up here was pretty impressive, especially considering the fact that all of the equipment here had been scavenged from who knows where. It wasn’t as fancy as some hospitals, but it was better than the average emergency room—especially considering they weren’t going to get caught by Abstergo agents by coming here. “Please, have a seat.” she gestured to an empty chair.

 

Desmond sat down in the chair and without further prompting, rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. His right arm was the most problematic part of his recovery. It had been badly…uh…let’s say _damaged_ back in the Isu Temple. His fingertips were charred black and running up his palm and all the way to his elbow spiraled what looked like Isu designs. The strength in that arm had been slow to return, and he’d stated relying more on his left arm for things, which had proven to be a challenge as well. But he’d come a long way.  
As he sat there, Isabela began to go through the usual routine of checking his heart rate, blood-pressure and all that jazz. He’d been doing this long enough now that it was second nature to him. Isabela jotted down a few notes, dark curls bouncing as she moved and humming to herself as she worked.

 

“Everything looks good so far,” she smiled at him warmly. “Now, we just need to see about your arm and you can be on your way.”

 

“That sounds good to me, Doc.” he agreed. He’d never been particularly fond of Doctors as a whole; even ones he was otherwise fond of. 

 

“Can you make a fist, tight as you can and hold it for as long as you can?”

 

Desmond did as instructed. In the beginning, he’d only been able to manage a few seconds. That was not the case now. He figured that meant he was getting at least a little bit stronger.

 

“Very good.” Isabela beamed. Taking his right hand, she began poking and prodding at it. He still had some issues feeling certain things, which was part of why the recovery was taking so long.  
“Can you feel _this_?” she pricked the palm of his hand with a large needle, before moving up to his fingers and pricking them as well.

 

“Yep! Definitely felt that.” Desmond confirmed. Ouch.

 

“Good.” Isabela made a few more notes before turning her attention back to him. “We’re done for today—remember to keep doing your exercises!”

 

Desmond rose to his feet. “Thank, Doc. I appreciate it.”

 

“You are very welcome.” 

 

* * *

“Hey, you free?” Rebecca’s voice interrupted; he looked up to find her leaning on the door-frame of the infirmary. 

“Don’t over-do it; remember to take it easy!” Isabela told him; he gave her a salute before heading to where Rebecca stood. 

 

“Whaddya need?” He asked curiously.

 

“I need an extra set of hands in the main room.” she replied. 

 

Rebecca had never told him why she’d taken over Shaun’s job (neither had anyone else for that matter). And Desmond, who was (potentially detrimentally) curious by nature was being driven mad by not knowing. But every time he broached the subject with her, she clammed up. Which, to Desmond meant that whatever had happened had been traumatic. And he knew better than to go poking at someone else’s trauma. So, he’d let her keep her secrets. 

 

“So, what’s going on?” Desmond asked as they walked. “I noticed that there’s even less people around than normal.”  
On any given day, there were _usually_ about 6 or 7 people (give or take), but for the last week or so, there had only been _maybe_ 4\. It made the base feel empty. The long hallways were dark and empty, only adding to the sense of isolation.

 

“Well, Shaun and Hadassah are out in the field, like they usually are; can’t keep them here if you tried. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

 

Desmond wasn’t particularly surprised by that. He hadn’t seen Shaun the entire time he’d been awake. 

“Ismail is out doing recon nearby and DK went with him. As for Bat, he’s out getting supplies.”

 

The main room of the base was floor to ceiling monitors of varying types, giving the whole room an eerie glow. Desmond took a seat at one of the desks.  
“What’s Bat doing scrounging; I thought that was DK’s job?” That _was_ her job description after all. Bat’s on the other hand, was artifacts—the man could date or restore just about anything. He also had a crazy knowledge and love of medieval Spanish poetry. But hey, Desmond wasn’t the type to judge. To each their own. 

 

Rebecca took a seat at the other desk and shrugged. “It is. But it’s like this—DK **had** to go with Ismail to watch his back. Because I don’t need the hassle of Hadassah finding out I sent her brother out without backup. And Bat can’t be trusted to go with Ismail, because he does stupid shit to impress Ismail. That, in turn stresses Ismail out. And the less stressed our operatives are, the happier they are and therefore, the happier _I_ am.” 

 

“Makes sense.” Desmond agreed. Glancing back at the monitor, he noticed blueprints displayed there. They seemed to be of an Abstergo facility, but here couldn’t tell where it was. “Hey, I’ve got a question.”

 

“What’s on your mind, Desmond?” Rebecca asked, sparing a glance at him. 

 

“Where exactly _are_ we? Like in a geographical sense?”

 

“Oh! That’s right, you weren’t conscious when we moved here.” Rebecca realized. “We’re in France.” 

 

“France? Cool.” 

 

“Yeah, I’ll show you exactly where on the map later.” Rebecca promised. 

 

* * *

After a couple of hours of coordinating various things for the teams in the field, Desmond stood and stretched, groaning as his back popped loudly. 

“That should do it for now, Desmond; I’ll let you know if I need anything else.” Rebecca said, shooing him off. 

 

“Awesome. I’m gonna go grab some lunch and maybe take a nap.” he announced, heading off in the direction of the kitchen. He could hear Rebecca laughing as he left. She could laugh all she wanted but since his coma, he’d found a greater appreciation of naps. Which was strange, since he’d spent so much time unconscious. But, knowing how busy they got, learning to catch some sleep when you could was the smartest thing to do. 

 

The kitchen here was of average size, which meant it was three times as large as the one in his last apartment. And it was stocked with an assortment of supplies for just about any kind of food you could imagine. 

 

“Hey Desmond, you hungry? I making fried rice and there’s plenty to go around, if you’re interested.” Standing at the stove, wok full of delicious smelling food was Tanner Rho, the team’s mechanic. It if had an engine, Tanner could not only fix it but make it better as well. And he was a damn good cook too, which was always a point in favor of someone in Desmond’s book.

 

“I’d never turn down food.” Desmond replied with a smile, taking a seat at the bar.

 

The kitchen was silent for a few minutes, until Rebecca entered. “What smells so good?” she asked. 

 

“Lunch.” Tanner replied, attention focused on the food. 

 

“Awesome.” Rebecca took a seat next to Desmond at the bar, a wide and mischievous smile on her face. “Hey, are you gonna invite Bella to lunch?”

 

Desmond could keep from laughing at how red Tanner went at Rebecca’s suggestion. That was something he’d learned very early on, Tanner really liked the doctor. But whenever he was around her, he turned into a babbling, blushing mess. It was both amusing and slightly awkward to watch.

 

“Oh…um…yes.” Tanner took his cellphone from his pocket and dialed Isabela’s number. “Isabela? Hi, it’s Tanner—you probably guessed that. Um, I don’t know if you’re hungry or not but I fixed some lunch and you’re more than welcome to come eat. Desmond and Rebecca are here already….Ok…sure.” Tanner hung up the phone with a dazed smile on his face.

 

“You’re ridiculous, you know.” Rebecca said. “You can fix anything with an engine or stab a guy in the face, but talk to a pretty girl and suddenly you’re a mess. You talk to me and Hadassah no problem.”

 

“Well, Isabela is special.” Tanner replied, then backpedaled. “I mean, you guys are great…well, _you’re_ great. Hadassah’s kind of terrifying…”

 

“Tanner,” Desmond interjected. “She’s teasing you.”

 

“Oh, right.” Tanner immediately stopped talking, handing out bowls full of food instead. Placing a bowl on the bar for Isabela as well. Once everyone was there, they ate in companionable silence.

 

 

* * *

Growing up and even into adulthood, Desmond had never been much of a team player. He’d always been far more comfortable on his own. But before the coma, he’d learned the value of having the right people at your back. Having people you trusted to look after you, even if you didn’t always agree with them was far preferable to going through life alone, or with people you didn’t or couldn’t trust. And now, here he was with a whole team of people at his side; people he hadn’t known long but would fight for if it was necessary and he knew they would do the same. Sure, they all had their own idiosyncrasies that didn’t always mesh well with one another, but they were a team all the same.  
He’d learned more than just the value of a good team though. He had learned the meaning of the word sacrifice, in a way most people didn’t. That was a new development, as before he’d been slightly selfish.  
Juno had told him that he’d be a leader of men. His knee-jerk reaction at the time had been to say _‘hell no’_ to that sort of responsibility. But…now, maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched an idea; maybe that at least hadn’t been a lie. After all, even he could see that if the Assassins were going to survive there were going to have to be some serious changes. And if the current heads of the Brotherhood wouldn’t do it, then maybe it was time for them to step down. Somebody needed to properly shoulder the responsibility, and if it had to be him, then so be it.  
Desmond knew exactly the kind of changes that needed to happen. Step one would be better training for everyone in the Brotherhood. They needed to know not only how to fight and free climb, but they needed to learn how to spot and lose a tail. They needed better language skills to blend in places, needed more people like Isabela and Tanner whose skills were outside of the norm for most assassins. And perhaps most importantly, they needed to take better care of one another. Because hallucination!Clay (or potentially ghost!Clay…weird) had been right, they weren’t pawns to be sacrificed thoughtlessly for the sake of the cause. They would be no better than the Templars if they continued on treating their members that way. Every member of the Brotherhood was important, and they needed to be taken care of. And if that meant storming Abstergo facilities or Templar strongholds to rescue captured assassins, then so be it. But no more leaving people behind.  
Desmond was going to see to it that change happened, no matter what it took. He owed it to those who had died to get him to this point.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited reunion happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write this Desmond and Shaun reunion for a while now. The problem was finding other stuff to fill up the chapter.

“Hadassah,” Shaun’s voice came in over her earpiece. _Shit, here it comes_ , she thought as she shoved the artifact, box and all into her bag. She’d like to be more careful with it, especially since she didn’t exactly know _what_ was in the box, but honestly, there wasn’t time for that. “Did you set off an alarm?” 

 

“Not purposefully; I got our box—now let’s get the hell out of here. Where are you at?” Hadassah took off at a sprint in the direction where she’d last seen Shaun. Alarms meant _more_ guards and while she **loved** a good fight, even she didn’t want to get caught in one where the odds weren’t fair. They were in an **Abstergo** warehouse, which meant Abstergo had the home-field advantage. That meant she and Shaun needed to either get out of there as quickly as possible, or find something to even the odds. As much as she’d like to stay here and beat the crap out of each and every last one of those guards, it would be simpler and easier if she and Shaun just made a break for it.

“I’m heading your way.” Shaun replied. He came skidding into view a moment or two later. “We need to find another way out.” he told her, slightly breathless. “Our exit is blocked by way too many guards to fight our way out.” 

Hadassah huffed. 

“I know you’re itching for a fight,” Shaun continued, “but I think we need to figure out a different path.” 

Hadassah huffed again. “I’m _always_ itching for a fight, but I resent the fact that you think I’d put you in danger to get it—I’m you **partner** Shaun, it’s my job to make sure you make it back alive.” she paused as an idea suddenly came to her. “I may have an idea!” 

There was shouting in the distance, growing louder the closer it got. “No time to lay it all out; give me a boost and I’ll pull you up.” she motioned to the shelf next to them. The two of them had been working together long enough now that Shaun could follow her train of thought without too much trouble.  
During their recon, they had seen a couple of skylights but had deemed them too much of a risk as a way in. But, as an escape route, it had some merit. 

“You wanna go up and out?” Shaun asked, already readying himself to give her a boost up. 

“If you’ve got a better plan Hastings, I’m all ears.” One she was securely up on the shelf, she reached a hand down to haul him up. 

“No, no, up and out works for me.” He replied trying to find a stable place to hold onto the shelf. 

Together they made their way up the shelf to the very top. It wasn’t the most stable surface either one of them had been on, but as long as they distributed their weight evenly, they could use the shelves to reach the rafters and from there to the roof. Of course, once they were out of the building, they were still trapped on an island…unless of course they got lucky and could evade Abstergo long enough to find a way off the island. But, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. Hadassah was more of a ‘ _one problem at a time’_ kind of gal than a full on planner. And right now, the only thing they had to do was focus on making it out of the warehouse in one piece. 

* * *

Hadassah’s escape plan was…surprising. Shaun wouldn’t have thought to climb the shelves as a means of escape. Of course, without Hadassah, he wouldn’t have been able to _reach_ the bottom of this particular shelf. Shaun considered himself to be a man of average height, _maybe_ above average, but standing next to Hadassah, he felt shorter than he’d care to admit. He knew it wasn’t her fault she was built like some kind of amazon warrior, she wasn’t _trying_ to make him self-conscious about his height. But she did. And sometimes, it irritated him more than it should. Right now was definitely **not** one of those moments. Unsurprisingly, she reached the rafters before he did and held down a hand to pull him up. Carefully, they made their way to the skylights. And that’s where they ran into trouble. The skylight was a solid piece of glass; they weren’t going to be able to get out this way. Shit! 

 

“Now what?” Shaun asked. They’d lost the guards pursuing them by going up, but if they stayed here it wouldn’t take the guards long to figure out where they’d gone. Shaun would like to forego time in a Templar cell. And you know, **death**. Because these guards were just as likely to kill them as to take them prisoner.

 

“Step back.” Hadassah instructed; reaching into her bag she pulled out a baton. “I took this off a guard earlier.” she said with a grin. “You never know when something’s going to come in handy.”

 

“For once, I’m glad of your thieving tendencies.” Shaun did as she instructed, moving well out of the way of any falling glass.

 

With no further prompting or warning, Hadassah extended the baton and smacked it against the glass, once, twice, three times until the glass shattered; she covered her head and neck as it fell down around her.

 

“After you.” she crouched down and gave him a leg up, following quickly after him. “Ta-da!” she exclaimed with a flourish once they were both safely on the roof. 

 

Before they had a chance to plan the next leg of their escape, they found themselves surrounded by guards.

 

“Shit.” Hadassah muttered. 

 

“Hadassah,” Shaun turned to look at his partner. “Remember when I told you that not _every_ situation required you to punch your way out of it?”

 

She nodded. 

 

“This is one of those situations that **does**.” Shaun didn’t envy these guards, who were about to have hell unleashed upon them.

 

“Awesome.” Hadassah grinned like the cat that ate the canary.  
Surging forward, she wretched the gun from the hand of the nearest guard, before kicking him into the man next to him. As much as Shaun griped about her need to punch things, he _did_ like to watch her work. She was fast and light on her feet, and most people underestimated her which was sometimes a fatal mistake.

 

Not wanting to be shown up, Shaun threw himself at the guard nearest to him. That was one thing about working with Hadassah, she made him want to step up his own game; he was competitive like that. They hadn’t always meshed well when they’d first started working together. Hadassah’s fighting style was generally **evade** and then **keep hitting things until they stop getting up** whereas Shaun’s was a little more refined…or at least had a little more finesse. That had led to them often being in each other’s way. But, they’d learned how to read one another.

 

“This is taking too long. Head for the edge of the roof; we need to get lost in the crowd.” Hadassah shouted at him, twisting a guard’s arm until there was an audible _‘crack’_.

 

He nodded, knocking the guard next to him unconscious and making a break for the edge of the roof. If Hadassah was saying they needed to run, not fight, then he’d listen to her. Without hesitation, he threw himself off the edge of the warehouse roof; the fire-escape on the building across the alley meant he’d have an easier time free-climbing down from there than anywhere else.  
Shaun was almost on the ground before Hadassah followed after him. Once they were both back on solid ground, Hadassah shoved him in the direction of the alleyway entrance. For a moment, it looked as if they’d lost the Abstergo guards, until a handful appeared, blocking the alleyway.

* * *

It had been a long time since Rebecca had heard from Shaun and Hadassah. There should have been some sort of communication by now…unless the pair had run into trouble. And given whom she was speaking of, it wouldn’t surprise her. Shaun and Hadassah seemed to attract trouble of the worst sort. Fortunately, she could _usually_ rely on them to get themselves out of said trouble in one piece. But, it never hurt to keep apprised of events.  
Dialing Shaun’s phone, Rebecca waited…and waited…and waited, until it finally went to voicemail. That was neither particularly troubling or unusual. Shaun operated with a single-minded focus while on mission, it would have been more worrying if he **had** answered.

 

Next, she dialed Hadassah’s number. It rang twice, and then, “Hey Rebecca, I was just about to call you.” Hadassah sounded out of breath and in the background, Rebecca could hear what sounded like a fight.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

“We’re fine; picked up our package but ran into some trouble leaving the facility. “ Hadassah answered. “Actually, if there’s anyone in the area, we could use a ride.”

 

Rebecca checked her notes. “Nate’s nearby. I’ll have him come get you and text you when he gets there.” she paused. “You think you can stay out of trouble until he gets there?”

 

“We’ll manage.” Hadassah replied as she hung up.

* * *

Rebecca dialed up another number; hopefully, he was available. Otherwise, Shaun and Hadassah were going to have to do something drastic like steal a boat or something. Which in turn, would draw even **more** unwanted attention upon them.

 

He picked up after the first ring. “Afternoon Ms. Crane.” he greeted.

 

“Are you on a job?” she asked, cutting right to the point. She didn’t have time for niceties, Shaun and Hadassah were in trouble and they were going to need a quick exit.

 

“No, I’m just grabbing some lunch in Morocco…” he paused. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to tell me to leave my nice little cafe and go get shot at?”

 

“Because that’s exactly what I’m about to do.” she replied. “Shaun and Hadassah need a ride.”

 

“Sounds fun.” he replied. “Just tell me when and where.”

 

“ASAP for the when, and as for the where, I’ll text you the details.”

 

“Sounds good.”

* * *

After taking care of the guards blocking the alley, Shaun and Hadassah headed out into town. The thing about hiding in plain sight was that you needed to have _people_ to blend in with. And given the amount of tourists on the island, the _should_ be able to blend in fairly easily…in theory. They still had to stay one step ahead of any Abstergo goons until Nate showed up. Hadassah was hoping that they could find a restaurant or library to hole up and wait. Otherwise, they would be constantly on the move until they heard from Nate. And who knew how long that could be? As they made their way through crowded streets, Hadassah slipped her hand into Shaun’s. 

 

“What are you doing?” he looked at her like she’d grown an extra head. 

 

“Blending in.” she replied. “Abstergo is looking for two assassins hiding in crowds, not a couple on a vacation.”

 

“Oh, that’s actually fairly clever.” 

 

She grinned. “I have my moments.” It had been a while since either one of them had taken any time to just relax. Sure, they were _kind of_ still on the run from Abstergo right now, but the sun was out and it was a beautiful day. So, seeing as how they weren’t sure how long they were going to be stuck here, they should enjoy it while they could.

 

After two hours of wandering around the busy streets, stopping at different stores and ducking into alleyways whenever they saw an Abstergo uniform, Hadassah’s phone _finally_ went off.

> **Docks; look for Winnie** the text message read.

Finally, Nate was here. Now they could get the hell out of here.

 

Nate Basri was an extraction expert and one hell of a pilot. Hadassah fondly referred to him as ‘ _her other brother_ ’. Winnie was his sea-plane; old and worryingly rickety at times, Nate treated the plane with the attention due to something precious. And, despite the fact that Shaun wasn’t particularly fond of the man or the plane, he knew that if anyone could get them out of here and back in one piece, it was Nate.

 

“C’mon Hastings, we’ve got a date with Winnie!” Hadassah tugged him along after her as she changed direction and headed towards the docks.  
The pair began dodging and weaving through the foot traffic on the street, making their was as quickly as they could without drawing too much attention to themselves. Though, at this point, Shaun was fairly confident that they’d given Abstergo the slip. It had been almost an hour since they’d seen any guards. 

All they had to do now was make it to the docks, board Winnie and bar a few stops to chance vehicles and lose potential tails, they were as good as home. Then, they could relax properly for a bit. They hadn’t spent much time as this new base, he and Hadassah both preferred to be out in the field. But, it _would_ be nice to sleep in the comfort of his own bed for at least a few days.  
Once they’d made it home, they’d hand over the piece of Eden to bat to catalog and store. And then, provided there wasn’t some sort of crisis or emergency, they could have a few days of R&R. And boy, was he ever looking forward to it.

* * *

Of course, nothing in life was ever easy— _especially_ when you were in the middle of a secret war against a multi-billion dollar organization. So, of **course** the minute they left the city center and headed to their rendezvous with Nate, Shaun and Hadassah found themselves (once again) surrounded by Abstergo goons. They were so _close_ to the docks; they could see Winnie ready and waiting for takeoff. 

 

“Oh come on! Just give up already!” Shaun groaned. They just couldn’t catch a break, could they?

 

Hadassah slid the bag off her back and handed it to him without a word. 

 

“What are you doing?” Shaun asked. 

 

“I’m going to make you an opening. When you see it, run as fast as you can, don’t stop until you’re on the plane.” she replied. There were two options here as far as she could see, either they stay here and try to fight and risk _both_ of them getting caught. Or, she could create a diversion for him and try to catch up as quickly as possible. Shaun was pretty good in a fight, but they were both tired, and she was faster than him. So, she liked her chances of being able to outrun them.

 

“What about you?” Shaun asked, slinging her bag up onto his back.

 

“I’ll be right behind you, I promise.” she replied. 

 

Without another word, Hadassah tackled the nearest guard, giving Shaun a small opening; he took it with no hesitation. Running at breakneck speed towards the plane.

 

Once Hadassah was sure that Shaun was clear, she turned her full attention to the guards. “It’s nothing personal guys, I’m just in a hurry.” she said. “Ok, maybe it’s a _little_ personal.” she shrugged before pulling the knife from her belt. “So, who’s first?”

 

Taking on a group of guards in full body armor wasn’t the _best_ idea she’d ever had. But, she didn’t have to win this fight. She just had to keep them distracted long enough for Shaun to make it to the plane. So, that’s what she did; ducking and dodging the guards’ attacks. Risking a glance back at Shaun, she saw he was nearly there. Good.  
A fist caught her in the jaw, and she stumbled. Righting herself, she drove the point of her knife into the guard’s thigh.

“Later guys.” she said, turning on her heels and making a break for the plane. 

* * *

Meanwhile, Shaun had done as instructed, running to the sea-plane as fast as possible. without stopping or looking back. Once he’d made it to the plane, he collapsed down into a seat with a sigh of relief.

 

“Where’s Hadassah?” Nate asked, looking back at him from the cockpit.

 

“Oh her way,” Shaun explained. “Had a few things to take care of first.” 

 

“What did she do, stop for coffee?” Nate joked. 

 

“Ask her yourself.” Shaun said, as Hadassah took that as her cue to arrive, sporting the beginnings of a large bruise along her jaw. She closed and latched the door behind her and sat down next to Shaun.

 

“Nice of you to join us, sunshine.” Nate said.

 

“Sorry it took so long,” she said. “I had to take out some trash.”

 

“Really?” Shaun asked in disbelief. “You sound like a Saturday morning cartoon hero, saying that.”

 

Hadassah grinned at him as Nate prepared for take-off. “That was the plan, Hastings. I mean, if you can’t throw around quips like an action hero every once in a while, what is the point of living?” she asked, gesturing wildly. 

 

“Are you bleeding?” Shaun asked, looking at a large gash that ran from the middle of her forearm down to her elbow; it was likely from a shard of glass from their warehouse escape. How he didn’t notice it sooner, he didn’t know.

 

“A little.” Hadassah waved it off. “It’s fine.”

 

From the cockpit, Nate ‘tsked’. “There’s a first aid kit under your seat, Shaun.” 

 

Shaun reached under the seat and pulled out the first aid kit. Hadassah was pouting, but she held out her arm to him anyway. Using the supplies in the kit, very carefully, Shaun cleaned out the wound and the wrapped it, a little haphazardly, in bandages.

 

Hadassah smiled at that. “Thanks.” she said, slouching against him, not bothering to move her arm.

 

“That’s what partners are for, Kadiri.” he replied. “To patch you up and use you as a pillow.”

 

“Well, you **do** make a good pillow.”

* * *

Nate Basri hadn’t always been an assassin. He’d been a soldier once—a field medic specifically, when he’d found himself in the middle of a fight between Abstergo forces and a Brotherhood team. Unable to stand by and watch as the assassins were slaughtered, he helped them escape. And when they’d offered him a job, he’d taken it. Getting people in and out of dangerous places and occasionally patching them up too was a far better use of his skill set. And with Winnie, he could get in or out of just about anywhere in a hurry. His father was a pilot, and he’d taught Nate how to fly; it was his favorite pastime. But never once had Nate thought he could turn his hobby into his job. And now, here he was. Full time pilot and assassin, part time medic.

He was glad that he’d been able to provide a quick escape for Shaun and Hadassah, and that neither of them were seriously injured. Since he’d joined the Brotherhood, the Kadiris had been his closest friends—his family. He was an only child growing up, so to have people he was as close to as siblings was something he wouldn’t take for granted. He’d never be able to forgive himself if something happened to either Ismail or Hadassah.  
The flight back to Winnie’s hangar was quiet the rest of the way, and so was the ride from the hangar to the base. It had been a long couple of days and Hadassah was looking forward to some uninterrupted sleep.

It was strange to think that they hadn’t been back here in…she didn’t even know how long. Suffice it to say, it had been quite a while. Hadassah had always been more comfortable on the go; couldn’t stand being idle. Apparently, ( _thankfully_ ) Shaun was very much the same. But every once in a while it was nice to have a little bit of downtime, even she knew that. Or, at least as much downtime as a group of people being actively hunted could have. Hadassah was looking forward to seeing her brother at the very least.  
She and Ismail had always been close. He’d always been there for her when she needed him, even if he was also a tad bit overprotective. She understood the reason why though. It was the downside of losing both their parents at such young ages; they had grown used to being the only family either had.

* * *

While things were quiet, Desmond had gone down to the laundry room to finish up his clothes while there wasn’t anyone else waiting around to use the washer and dryer. It seemed like the dryer especially was always full when he needed to use it. So, he was going to take advantage of the fact that it was currently unoccupied. The laundry room was in the basement, near the garage. Come to think of it, that was probably why he never seemed to have to compete with Tanner for the dryer. His work space being so near to the laundry room probably meant he knew when the machines were empty.

Desmond was beginning to get bored being cooped up here. He was itching for something more substantial to do than what he’d been doing lately. Coordinating things for missions and rehabbing could only occupy him so much. He needed something, anything more exciting to fill the hours.  
He used to long for the quiet and peace he’d lost when he was pulled back into this war, and now he longed for action and excitement; oh how the tables had turned. Desmond was stuffing clothes into the washer when the base’s proximity alarms blared to life. After taking a moment to calm his racing heartbeat, Desmond abandoned his laundry to go find out what was happening.

 

Hopefully, it was something minor like a team returning unscheduled or something and not something like the base was under attack. Moving in a hurry was always difficult, especially when they still had operatives in the field who wouldn’t be aware the base had been compromised.  
The commotion seemed to be centered around the garage, so that’s where Desmond went. He hadn’t spent much time there; he didn’t see a reason he should hang around underfoot and in Tanner’s way ; after all, he couldn’t rebuild an engine from memory or anything like that, and besides, there were usually other things for him to do. He had to admit though, it was the nicest (and surprisingly cleanest) garage he’d ever seen. Everything was neat and orderly, minus the odd grease or oil stain on the floor. Of all the people on base, Tanner wouldn’t have been the one that came to mind when he thought the words ‘ _neat freak_ , but apparently, people could surprise you no matter how well you thought you knew them.

 

An unassuming, silver sedan rolled to a stop in the garage and two men and a woman climbed out of it, greeting Tanner.  
The man in the driver’s seat, Desmond didn’t know. He leaned against the driver’s side door, motioning to the hood with one had as he spoke to Tanner, who nodded along.  
There was something vaguely familiar about the woman, but Desmond couldn’t figure out what it was. She draped an arm over the shoulders of the third man.

 

As for the third man, Desmond recognized him immediately. Shaun’s hair was a little longer and a little darker, but he’d know that profile anywhere. He and Shaun hadn’t always gotten along, but Desmond had always counted him as a friend. Surviving everything they had gone through together tended to create bonds between people, regardless of how they felt about one another personally. Plus, it was always nice to see a familiar face.

 

As if sensing eyes on him, Shaun looked up; surprise written all over his face as he saw Desmond. Which, he supposed was understandable given everything that happened. Before Desmond had a chance to say anything, Isabela and Rebecca entered the garage, brushing past Desmond entirely to crowd around the others.

* * *

Hadassah felt Shaun go rigid beside her; following his line of sight, she saw the reason. Even when the others showed up, Shaun’s gaze stayed on Desmond, as if he were afraid if he blinked the other man would disappear.  
Desmond Miles was a bit of a sore subject for both Shaun and Rebecca, Hadassah knew. Being able to do nothing but watched as a friend attempted to sacrifice themself had to be traumatic, even if they ultimately had survived in the end. And she knew that neither Rebecca nor Shaun had really dealt with said trauma; Rebecca buried it, tired to pretend everything was fine. Shaun on the other hand, talked about it—especially with her. He wore his grief about everything that had happened openly. Hadassah envied that about him.  
Of course, now Shaun was standing in the middle of the garage looking like he was .02 seconds away from launching into a Shakespearean monologue or something. And that would be embarrassing for everyone involved. So, it looked like it was down to her to fix things. Ugh, the things she did for this man.

 

“Hey Bella, I need you to take a look at this.” Hadassah slid her arm off Shaun’s shoulders and held it out to Isabela, watching as the other woman switched from _‘best friend’_ mode into _‘doctor’_ mode.

 

She tsked. “How many times have I told you to be careful out there?” With a sigh, she motioned for Hadassah to follow her. “Come on, let’s head to my office.”

 

Hadassah turned back to Nate before she left. “Hey Nate, didn’t you say that you needed to speak with Tanner and Rebecca about something important?” she prompted.

 

He looked confused, so before he could say anything to reveal her evil plan, she motioned vaguely in Shaun’s direction and watched the light bulb go on.

 

“You’re right, I did. Thank, I’d almost forgotten.” Nate replied. “But, I’m **starving** so we can talk in the kitchen.”

 

The five of them left the garage, leaving Shaun and Desmond alone.

* * *

Shaun didn’t give Hadassah enough credit, he realized. She was a far better friend than he thought or recognized. She’d sensed what was likely to be an embarrassingly emotional situation and turned it into a less awkward situation by getting everyone else out of the room. **And** she’d done it without telling anyone what she was doing, or why. He was definitely going to have to buy her some kind of ‘thank you’ gift at the very least.  
Of course, Hadassah cleverly herding everyone out of the room meant that now it was just him and Desmond there. And he’d spent the last few years thinking about what he would say to Desmond if given the chance. But now, the moment was here and he couldn’t put those thoughts into words. Bloody typical.

 

“Desmond.” He greeted the mentor’s son the way he always had. As if it hadn’t been over three years since they’d seen one another. As if Desmond hadn’t almost died. Good job Hastings, way to ignore three years of character growth and be the same asshole as always.

 

“Hey Shaun.” Desmond at least, didn’t sound irritated; amused maybe but not irritated—so that was a small victory. They stood there in silence for several agonizingly long moments until Desmond spoke again. “Look, if you’re going to five me that whole _I should have done more to protect you_ speech, you can skip it. I already got one from Rebecca. And honestly, you guys don’t have anything to apologize for.”

 

“So, you’re saying we’re guiltless because we wouldn’t have been able to stop you anyway?” 

 

“Well yeah.” Desmond shrugged, smirking as he spoke. “Stubborn might as well be my middle name; I mean, have you met my Dad? You look up mule-headed in the dictionary and it’s just his picture.” 

 

“True.” Despite Desmond’s words, he still felt the need to apologize. So, he resolved himself to do just that, taking a steadying breath. “Still, I am sorry. I was a bit of an ass; you didn’t deserve that.”

 

Desmond laughed. “It’s cool Shaun—you’re forgiven. That was a pretty stressful time for everyone and I wasn’t exactly easy to be around either. So, how about we start over?” Desmond held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Desmond Miles.”

 

“Shaun Hastings.” Shaun couldn’t keep the small smile off his face as he shook Desmond’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you Desmond Miles.”

 

He was surprised when Desmond pulled him into a quick hug.

 

“Welcome back; glad you’re in one piece.”

 

“Thanks.” Shaun said, clearing his throat. “Are you interested in meeting the others? I know that Hadassah was looking forward to meeting you.”

 

“Sure.” Desmond agreed. And so, the two of them headed towards the kitchen.

* * *

Desmond and Shaun found the others all now in the kitchen. As soon as they entered the room, the woman who was (presumably) Shaun’s partner came over; looping an arm through Shaun’s.

 

“Hi,” she said with a cheery smile. “I’m Hadassah. It’s nice to finally meet you properly; I feel like I already know you—Shaun and Rebecca talked about you a lot. It was all good things.” she promised, as Shaun frowned at her.  
Looking around conspiratorially and leaning closer, she added, “I hear you’ve got _revolutionary_ ideas about how the Brotherhood should be run—I’d love to hear all about it at some point.”

 

Desmond still couldn’t pinpoint why she seemed so familiar to him and it was driving him nuts. He saw Shaun roll his eyes at her words, but his amused smile said he wasn’t as irritated by them as he pretended to be.

 

“Hadassah, give it a rest.” another voice admonished. It belonged to the man who’d been in the driver’s seat of the sedan. He was shorter than Desmond by an inch or two, with dark skin and dark curly hair hanging in light brown eyes. “You’ve known him for what? Two minutes? And you’re already dragging him into conversations about reform?” he strode over to them with wide steps. “I keep telling you that you have to wine and dine people, so to speak, before you go dropping words like _revolution_ or _reform_.”

 

“He’s right, you know.” Shaun added.

 

“You guys are as bad as Ismail,” Hadassah said with a sigh. “Just ruining all my fun.”

 

The other man smiled. “I don’t know about Hastings, but that’s _literally_ in the fine print of my job description: infil/exfil and ruining Hadassah’s fun when Ismail isn’t around.” 

 

Oh, Hadassah was Ismail’s sister. Well, that explained why she seemed so familiar. Mystery solved.

 

“Come on Hadassah, let’s go grab some food while there’s still food to be had.” Shaun said. With a small wave to Desmond, the pair of them headed to get lunch…or possibly breakfast.

 

“Hi, I’m Nate Basri, by the way.” the other man introduced himself finally. Desmond had both heard and read the name before. Apparently, Nate was an invaluable member of the Brotherhood; he was the one to call to get in or out of dangerous, highly guarded areas alive.

 

“Nice to meet you.” Desmond said. “I’ve read a lot about you.”

 

“Oh really?” Nate seemed to perk up at that. “Well, I can assure you that only **half** of what you’ve read is true. Of course, the trick is to figure out which half.”

 

Desmond couldn’t help but laugh at that.

 

“You know,” Nate added. “We’ve _technically_ met before.”

 

“Really?” Desmond was pretty sure he’d have remembered Nate if he met him before.

 

Nate nodded. “You weren’t conscious at the time though. I helped Rebecca get you out of the last base during the raid.”

 

“Oh, guess I owe you a ‘thank you’ then.” Desmond said. 

 

“Nah,” Nate said with a wide and warm smile. “I was just doing my job. And, even if it wasn’t my job I would’ve helped out anyway. Because anyone whose friends work _that_ hard to protect must be worth the trouble, I figure.”

 

Desmond didn’t know what to say to that. 

 

And it looked as though Nate was similarly at a loss for words, running a hand through dark curls before clearing his throat. “Anyway, it’s nice to finally **properly** meet you.” he said.

 

“You too.” Desmond replied with a smile.

* * *

The kitchen door opened, revealing Bat standing there in the doorway, arms full of grocery bags.

 

“Guys, can I get a hand?” he asked. 

 

Shaun and Hadassah, who were both standing at the bar eating, looked at one another and then broke into a round of applause.

 

Bat sat the bags in his arms down on the counter, shooting a glare at Shaun and Hadassah. “Fuck you guys, that wasn’t what I meant and you know it.” he grumbled, although there was no bite to his words.

 

“You got a lot of bags left?” Hadassah asked in between bites of food. She and Bat spent a lot of time together, not only because the man was harboring a hardcore crush on her brother, but because she spent a lot of time in the artifact room. They both had a love of sea-shanties and would sing them while they worked or whenever they were bored; it irritated the hell out of Ismail.

 

“A few, yeah.” Bat replied. Bartholomew Carsen was their resident artifact cataloger. Normally, he spent most of his time in the artifact room, but someone needed to go out for supplies and with everyone else busy, that duty had fallen to him. 

 

“I’ll help you.” Isabela cut in before Hadassah could say anything else.

 

“We both will.” Tanner predictably added.

 

“Guess I’ll help too.” Rebecca said with a sigh.

 

The four of them headed back out the kitchen door. Desmond and Nate both moved over to the bar, where Shaun and Hadassah were standing.

 

“So Desmond,” Hadassah began as she rinsed out her now empty bowl. “Are you going stir-crazy yet? Because I’d be climbing the walls by now were I in your place.”

 

Desmond laughed. “I wouldn’t say _stir-crazy_. It’s just a **mild** case of cabin fever.”

 

“I can only imagine.” Shaun said. “Of course, not being routinely shot at must be nice.” Not that Shaun didn’t love his job, because he did, but the number of times he’d been shot at in the last three or four years was truly staggering. And sometimes, he missed the days where he was only shot at maybe three times a year.

 

“I’ve got no complaints about that part.” Desmond said.

 

“Well why would you?” Nate asked. “Being shot at is the worst part of the job.”

Bat and the others returned then, arms full of groceries and other supplies. Hadassah moved to help them put things away.

 

“I would have thought that Ismail and DK would have made it back by now; I mean, they were a lot closer than I was.” He’d driven six towns over to get supplies in an effort to obscure their location. DK and Ismail had been far closer to the base than he was. 

 

Rebecca realized that Bat was right, it **had** been too long since she’d heard from DK and Ismail; they should have been back by now.

 

Hadassah stopped putting things away and pulled out her phone. She called her brother’s number and it went straight to voicemail; her heart sunk. Ismail _always_ answered when she called, even if the timing was inappropriate. He never let her worry. Next, she tried DK’s number and there was no answer there either. Shit.

 

“No answer from either of them?” Rebecca asked.

 

Hadassah nodded, not trusting her voice not to betray the dread she was feeling.

 

“That’s not good.” Rebecca said before heading for the control room. Unsurprisingly, everyone went with her.  
Sitting down at her computer, she pulled up all the information she had on what DK and Ismail were doing. Their last check in was scheduled for this morning, and if they hadn’t all been so focused on trying to get Shaun and Hadassah back to base safely, she might have noticed that they missed their check in.

 

“They missed their morning check in, they’re not answering their phones and they’ve made no other contact.” Rebecca said, ticking things off.

 

“So, what now?” Desmond asked. 

 

“We go find them!” Bat and Hadassah said in unison.

 

“But not without a plan.” Nate said, placing a hand on Hadassah’s shoulder. “Otherwise we could all end up in trouble and there wouldn’t be anyone to rescue us.”

 

Hadassah huffed, crossing her arms. She hated to admit it, but Nate was right. If DK and Ismail _were_ in trouble (and it was looking like they were) and they went in without a plan, they could all end up in trouble. And that wouldn’t do anyone any good.

 

“I agree with Nate.” Rebecca said. “We’ve got blueprints of the building and all the information they’d gathered during recon. If we take a moment, we can figure out the best plan.”

 

Once that was settled, Nate turned to Desmond. “You ready to get back in the field?”

 

“Hell yes.” Desmond replied. He’d been waiting for the chance to get back to kicking Templar asses and now it was finally here. He was **more** than ready.

 

“Good, because with Iz and DK both gone, a rescue mission is gonna mean all hands on deck.”


End file.
